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“Don’t tease me with a good time.” And because my sister is like me, she grabs the pizza box and tucks it against her chest. “I’m ready to go, then.”
She winks at me while we stroll down the hallway toward the exit. Another security detail joins us when we step into the night. A bright spotlight shines over the back parking lot, and I hiss at how rough the concrete is against my bare feet.
At my second ouch, Benny scoops me up and carries me. I wave goodbye to Bria, who’s tiptoeing on her bare feet.
“Can one of you follow his lead, please?” she asks them.
Raul looks at the other guy. “My girlfriend will kill me if I tote another chick around. She’s all yours, Myles.”
Myles shakes his head before throwing Bria over his shoulder.
Bria squeals, pulls her dress down to cover her ass, and waves at me. “I’ll text you when I get home!”
If these men were anyone but Benny’s, I’d never allow my sister to walk down a dark street with strangers. But I trust Benny.
Benny hauls me toward a row of black SUVs. A pair of headlights flashes, and his Range Rover beeps when unlocked. He opens the passenger door with one hand, drops me onto the heated seat, and shuts the door.
We’re quiet as he exits the parking lot and turns onto the street. Benny turns the radio on low volume, and I don’t recognize the song. There’s no containing my smile when he rests his hand on my bare thigh. He cups me tight, as if he fears I’ll run away. I sit back, loosening my muscles, and attempt to part my legs discreetly.
A silent invitation since I’m not forward enough to grab his hand and shove it into my panties.
Benny keeps his hand in place, not moving an inch, and I narrow my eyes at him. I rub my thighs together, hoping he’ll getthatsignal. It’s dark in the car, so I can barely make out his features. He keeps his eyes on the road, and just when I assume this will be a no-action car ride, he slips a single finger beneath the hem of my dress. That simple touch sends excitement shooting through my veins.
I lose all sense of my surroundings, focusing only on the two of us.
My breathing is heavy. I roll down the window and allow cool air to fill the car.
Heat pools between my legs, and my skin burns for more of him when I feel the faintest touch across my covered center. My eyes roll to the back of my head. Momentarily, I forget we’re in a car. We’re so caught up in each other that neither of us notices the car riding our ass until it revs its engine. I fly forward at the blunt force of the car ramming into the Range Rover’s bumper.
Benny removes his finger out from underneath my dress and slams his foot on the gas, flooring it. He drapes his arm on the back of my seat and peers over his shoulder while he controls the steering wheel with his free hand.
The car’s wheels screech as they follow us.
“Fuck!” Benny shouts, slamming his hand against the steering wheel. He reaches out, cups the top of my head, and pushes it down. “Get on the floor. Don’t fucking come up until I tell you.”
“What—” My sentence is interrupted by gunfire.
Benny reaches down, covering what he can of me, and swerves onto a backroad. A gunshot whips through the back of the Range Rover, shattering the rear window, and barely misses Benny’s head.
I scream, and my side smacks into the door when Benny makes another turn, trying to lose the bastards.
Benny controls the steering wheel with his knee and one hand and uses the other to open a hidden compartment in the car’s dashboard. My thoughts race when he retrieves a gun and turns off the safety.
Since I’m not one to listen, I rise from the floor.
“Neomi!” he yells at me, curling his upper lip while pointing the gun toward the shattered glass window. “Get down!”
“Do you have another gun?” I frantically yell, searching the car's back seat while hoping a bullet doesn’t smoke me in the face. “I can shoot back.”
“Get down!” Benny repeats, attempting to shove me to the floorboard, but I fight him off.
His protecting me, driving, and shooting back will only kill him. He needs help.
“Benny!” I say, my voice almost pleading. “I know how to shoot a gun!”
Another gunshot whizzes by, hitting my side mirror.
“There’s one in the glove box,” he says.
